Archive for May, 2011

28 May 2011

Flawless Saturday Question

30 Comments Flawless Saturday Question

Yesterday, Russ and I had the most cliche’ fight ever. Okay, it wasn’t a fight. It was a fun “discussion”. The basic gist was that I HATE when he leaves the seat up. He feels it’s unfair that he should have to raise the seat when he has to pee.

I explained that having the toilet seat up makes the toilet look more “exposed”. You walk into the bathroom and there it is, mouth agape, starting at you and saying, “This is where your waste goes. This is where EVERYONE’S waste goes. I’m gross.” Also, boys don’t always have the greatest aim. Enough said.

And a couple times, in the middle of the night, I accidentally sat down on the open toilet and pretty much fell in. That made me nauseous for weeks.

So after a long “discussion” we came to an agreement. From now on, we both have to close the toilet completely. That way we BOTH have to lift the lid when we have to go. Brilliant, right?

In honor of this momentous occasion, I thought it would be appropriate to ask a few bathroom-related Flawless Saturday Questions:

1. Toilet seat up or down? You know my answer.

2. Toilet paper over or under? I used to be strictly over. Now I go both ways.

3. Water off or running while you brush your teeth? I always turn it off. Wasting water makes me crazy!

4. Do you let your spouse/kids walk in when you’re “going”? I’m ok with number 1. Not with number 2. And that is way, way too much info.

5. Do you read on the potty? I’m a fan of boggle on my iPhone, or crossword puzzles. Again, too much info.

Looking forward to reading your answers! (On the potty.) (What am I doing?)

25 May 2011

On the Road

3 Comments Personal Crap

I did not start my new journey off exactly the way I would have liked to last night.

First, the good stuff. I started my day off with a long walk with my dog. It allowed me to think, get a little exercise, and enjoy the sunshine. Then I got through pretty much everything on my to-do list.

My mom had the whole family over for dinner tonight for the first time since my dad died. She’s had just the three of us over before, but this was my brother and his family as well. Dinner was great and we had a fantastic night, talking and laughing. I unfortunately ate too much lasagna and an unnecessary piece of garlic bread. And I topped it off with banana cream pie.

I know it doesn’t help that I’m exhausted because G’s been waking up INSANELY early every morning. When I’m tired I definitely have a harder time making good choices. I also walk into walls.

So, I wasn’t perfect. But today is another day and a chance to make better decisions. And a year from now, I won’t remember the pie. I’ll remember Garrett and his cousin Sam drawing pictures in the living room, my brother and I coming up with stupid rhymes to punch up a joke, and my mom watching proudly as my niece cleared the table and did the dishes.  And Garrett? He slept an hour later today!!

This morning I feel… Happy and grateful. I can choose to feel however I want to today.  That’ll be part of this journey. Because I don’t just want to be proud of myself when I get to where I’m going. I want to be proud and joyful along the way.

24 May 2011

Road to Contentment

11 Comments Health, Personal Crap

I’m angry with myself again. For a minute there I was very happy with my weight. I wasn’t super thin like I was last year, but I felt good with the extra pounds. I felt like me again. But then I stopped paying attention to what I was eating and I haven’t worked out in months… So I feel like I failed myself again.

I’m angry because I do this over and over. I get to a place where I feel good and then I blow it. But it almost feels intentional. I remember thinking to myself a few weeks ago, “I’m going to screw this up again. I’ll just keep eating until I don’t fit into my jeans and I’m angry at myself.” Mission accomplished.

This is not AT ALL about what I look like. It’s about the way I feel, both physically and mentally. And I’m writing about it because I think we all do it to ourselves in one way or another. Like we don’t feel we deserve to be fully happy with ourselves… Or for ourselves.

I’m going to be 40 in November, and this is a trend I would like to stop by then. I no longer crave to be super-thin. In fact, I’m a little sad that there are 10 episodes of a show out there where I’m supposed to be representing women, and I look like a little boy. I truly want to be healthy and happy in my own skin. And all it takes to do that is paying attention. I know I can do it. I’ve done it 100 times in the past. The piece I seem to be missing, however, is how to do it permanently. To be honest, I haven’t met many people who know how.

I want to be one of those people who work exercise into their daily routine, no matter what. And who eat moderately, still allowing themselves to really enjoy food. And I want to fit comfortably into the clothes I already have.

I feel like I’ve written this before. I know I have, many times. I guess I’m just thinking it will resonate with you, as well. Because I think it’s very common, even though I know there are varying degrees of it. I know people look at me and think I’m crazy to feel this way, but they aren’t in my body. I know what my body is capable of and I know when I’m letting myself down. And I think one of the worst feelings is being disappointed in myself.

Really, all I want is to find a place where I’m happy with ME and stay there. I feel like I deserve that. We all do, don’t we? And we are in control of that. Only us.

I also notice, and tell me if you notice this too, that when I’m feeling this way everything else is out of whack. My car is messier. My house is unorganized. And I don’t concentrate as well which leads to things like parking tickets or forgetting I have to cook the turkey that’s in the fridge before it goes bad. So, I end up wasting money, too.  It seems like it all goes together.

I’m going to begin this journey again. This journey of feeling good about myself and my surroundings. The cool part is, I’m always closer to being happy with myself than I used to be. I think maybe that comes with age.

If you’re on your own personal “happy” journey, I’d like to know. I’d love to hear what has worked for you and what hasn’t. We all have our own measure of what makes us feel good. None of us should compare ourselves to each other. But what makes you feel the best about you? And do you stay in that place?

23 May 2011

BONUS: Flawless Saturday Question

4 Comments Flawless Saturday Question

How are you at managing your time?

I’m noticing more and more that I have a complete inability to use my time wisely. I manage to do everything I have to do in the morning before taking G to school, which usually involves feeding the dog and cats, packing G’s lunch, feeding him and me breakfast, folding some laundry, and sometimes showering.

The rest of the day, however, kind of gets away from me.

Like today. I know I need to grocery shopping but I had two auditions to get ready for right after school drop off today. I went on those auditions, and by the time I got home and shoveled some food in my face it was (it is) 1:02PM and I only have two hours before I pick up G and I’ve accomplished NOTHING of value.

I want to make a menu for the week so I’m not wasting food. I want to clean out the hall closet. I want to return some emails and start getting rid of stuff in my office so I can eventually turn it into a playroom.  Friends call to have lunch but I find myself not knowing how to fit a lunch into my schedule because the day moves so damn fast! And, by the way, I’d like to find some friggin’ time to be creative so I can do something that means something to me again before I’m all the way to middle age!

So how do I fix this problem? How do I become a better manager of my time? Does anyone do it successfully? I’m sure they do. And I want to know their tricks.  Because the thing is, once my kid is home from school, I like hanging with him. So from 9 to 3, I need to be Superwoman.

Consider this a bonus Flawless Saturday Question:

What are your tips for organizing your time? (Or is this just the way it’s going to be until G is 18? If it is, I’m FINE with that. Really!! I just need to know.)

21 May 2011

Flawless Saturday Question

11 Comments Flawless Saturday Question

What’s your “party” persona?

Russ and I went to a big party last night. It was for Clean House on the rooftop of a fancy hotel in Hollywood.  There was an open bar and passed hors d’oeuvres and it was fun and festive.

I began the evening with a dirty martini: Vodka, thank you. I love martinis, but I usually opt for wine instead. Wine’s better for you, has less calories, and is easier to sip. But last night, I felt like a martini girl. It was delicious and cold and perfect. Then I had another and found it equally enjoyable.

Then I was a tad tipsy. Not sloppy, mind you. But I was definitely tipsy. I’m rarely tipsy, so I decided to enjoy it. Plus, I knew I’d be driving us home, and for the next three hours I’d be drinking water and eating. (Not to mention schmoozing and yapping and hugging and chatting.)

We had a fantastic time. I got to hang out with a lot of lovely folks. We laughed a ton. My “party persona” is definitely one of a social butterfly. I’ve been like that since I was a kid. I love to talk to as many people as I can talk to, and find out what’s up with them. Of course there are those times when I just want to sit in a corner and veg… But that wasn’t me last night.

After the party, Russ and I went out for a 1:00 AM breakfast. We haven’t done that in years and we loved it. G was sleeping at his cousins’ house, so we had the whole night to ourselves. We went to bed after 2:00, and woke up at 9:00 to bring breakfast to G-Man and the family.

Today, I’m hungover. I have a horrible headache and I’m kind of nauseous. The truth is, I’d have had as much fun last night if I hadn’t had one drink. And I’d feel much, much better today. At almost 40, I think I need to stick to my one glass of wine, and skip the martinis. (At least skip the second one!)

So, when you go to a party and you have the whole night… How do you do it?

20 May 2011

Cool Kids

4 Comments Personal Crap

I always wonder what it’s like to be one of the “cool kids”. I’ve always wondered. Those people who seem to be super-comfortable in their skin, who have cool hair-cuts, and know exactly how to dress. The ones who can pull off the giant tattoos across their backs, and even make the small ankle tattoos look good. What is that like?

I’ve never been cool. Honest. Sometimes people assume I am because I’m on TV. But then they meet me and immediately know the truth.

I try to be cool sometimes. I say, “YEAH! Let’s totally go out for drinks! We might need to get a cab home, though!” Then I have three quarters of a glass of Cabernet and try not to fall asleep in my salad.

I act like I know my designer jeans and shoes. I don’t.

And I don’t even try to pretend to know the hip places to eat, or which new club has popped up somewhere.

I’m not cool.

And so, just like a pimple-faced teen wonders what it’s like to be a Playboy Playmate, I wonder what it’s like to be cool.

Do they know they’re cool?

Do they look in the mirror and think, “Yeah. I totally rock.”

Do they force their kids to be cool, or are they just naturally cool because “cool” is genetic?

You know the kids I’m referring to. The ones with the faux hawks, or the real hawks, or the hair that’s so long, you can’t quite put your finger on what sex they are. They’re the ones with the awesome shoes. Not the ones that light-up when they stomp. The ones that don’t.

The cool women resist bad sweat pants. They lose their baby weight immediately, or manage to dress awesomely for their new bodies. They don’t ever talk in stressed-out high-pitched voices. They’re calm. They’re good photographers. They buy their furniture at thrift stores, or they at least make it look like they do.

They went through a drug period, or they completely resisted drugs because their parents had a problem. If they laugh at your joke, it’s because it’s really funny. Otherwise, they’re not going to exert the energy. They never act like something’s a “big deal”.  Everything just… Is.

Do these cool people cry about their kids growing up too fast?  Do they ever trip walking off a curb? Do they buy too many vegetables at the supermarket and end up throwing out half of them? Do they ever buy their kids’ clothes at Target or Nordstrom Rack? Do they eat high-fiber cereal?

I’m thinking about becoming the Jane Goodall of cool people. I’ll just slowly infiltrate their lives until they accept me as one of their own. Then I’ll take copious notes and glean all I can about their way of life. And, I won’t just be doing it for me. I’ll be doing it for anyone who isn’t cool and all of the future generations. I think it’s time I learn about these creatures.

Now, if someone could just tell me where they hang out so I could get this project started.

17 May 2011

Smarty Pants

4 Comments Toddler

G-Man is writing his name. He really is. He’s doing it over and over again. And he’s writing Russ’ name, and mine. And drawing. Not stop draw fest in this house now. A month ago I couldn’t get him to draw a thing. Now he’s drawing Wii Sports boxers, Batman and Robin, Iron Man, and every character on Spongebob. Constantly. And they’re good, his drawings. They are. I’m not just saying that. You’d want to buy one if you saw it. I’ll take cash.

He’s even mastering the fine art of sarcasm. At three-and-a-half years old.  Russ and I are willing to take full responsibility for that.

He’s brave. Yesterday at the doctor, he wiped away tears, refusing to say he was crying. He was a brave boy as the doctor swabbed the back of his throat. Then he cried into my shoulder a bit, and let me hug him hard.

He’s funny. He quotes lines from his favorite shows. He does voices. He makes up jokes.

He sings lullabies that he makes up himself!

His imagination is mind-boggling. Driving yesterday he said, “Let’s pretend your car is a submarine and all the other cars are sea creatures!” Then all the way home he pointed out the sharks, squid, starfish, dolphins and crabs.

All this, but he refuses to sleep one second later than 6:30AM.

They say genius never sleeps.

I guess that’s why I need at least nine hours a night.  Plus naps.

14 May 2011

Flawless Saturday Question

22 Comments Flawless Saturday Question

What was your last ticket?  Have you ever talked yourself out of one?

Last week I was driving to work. Apparently I was driving 14 miles-per-hour too fast. However, so was EVERYONE ELSE AROUND ME! Anyway, I got pulled over by Officer Motorcycle Cop with Radar Gun. I rolled down my window and he said, “You were going 49 in a 35”, and he showed me the radar gun to prove it.

Long story short, I almost had myself talked out of it. He was wavering. He “felt bad”. But then I let him off the hook. “Don’t worry about it. You’re just doing your job”, I stupidly uttered. “Yeah. The people around here have been complaining about the speeding. I gotta write the ticket”, he replied apologetically.

So, almost the entire way to work, I cried. I didn’t cry because of the ticket, or the money it was going to cost me, or the time I was going to have to spend on the on-line traffic school. (Although each of those things is insanely annoying.) I cried because I almost talked myself OUT of the ticket, then talked myself back IN. I was pissed at myself.

Now, two other times in my past I did manage to talk myself out of tickets. Once, about 8 years ago, because I happened to be super cute that day, and I forced myself out of the car so the cop could see just how cute I was. I got let off with a hug and a warning. Seriously.

The second was because I had just dropped G off to sleep at his daycare for the first time ever. It was almost two years ago. I was sobbing as I drove away, and a cop followed me the two blocks home to tell me I did something. I don’t even remember what. By the time he got up to my window, I had worked myself up to a full crazy cry. He asked if I was okay and I yelled, “NO! I’M NOT!”

This cop literally backed away from my car, his hands up as if he was afraid I would jump out of my car and tackle him. “You try to have a better day, Ma’am. Sorry.” Then he was on his motorcycle and gone.

So, I got out of one because I was cute, the other because I was terrifying. Not sure which was more gratifying.

Tell me your story (or stories)!

11 May 2011

Little Shits

21 Comments Uncategorized

Someone help me with this. And please feel free to tell me if I’m being too harsh.

There’s always a couple little shits at the park. Yeah, I said it. Little Shits. You know them. You’ve met them. They’re the ones who pour sand on the slides, and throw sand at each other. They’re the ones who find giant sticks and run as fast as they can with them, bringing them onto the playground equipment and wielding them like swords. They’re the ones who don’t have any parents or grandparents… Not even nannies, anywhere near them.

I don’t like these kids. Sorry. I don’t. But you know who I like even less? The parents who should be watching them, but aren’t. I don’t even know if the parents are on the premises. But if they are, they’re on a bench several yards away, chatting with their asshole friends or playing Angry Birds on their iPhones.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with Angry Birds.

Tonight we took G to the park so we could run around for an hour before it was time to get ready for bed. When we got there, I was surprised by the huge volume of kids running around at that time of night. But I was even more surprised by the lack of parents. Three boys, about the age of 8 or 9, were running around like crazy (which is fine), and dumping large amounts of sand onto the slide that many kids were trying to come down. (Which is not fine.)

Parents? Anyone?

A little girl who appeared to be a sister of one of the boys kept saying, “Why do you do this every time we come to the park?” Then she’d go away for a few minutes only to come back and say, “Mom says you’re never going to be allowed to come here again.”


They persisted. More and more sand on the slide. More and more sand all over the place. Then they started throwing it. Still no parents. And I realized I was looking at them like I was Cruella DeVille and they were Dalmations. “Please stop throwing sand”, came the voice of reason, “It could get in the eyes of other kids. It’s not a nice thing to do.” I was amazed. Who had the wherewithall to finally get these kids to see what they were doing?

It was me. No one else cared.

Moments later I was across the playground with G and glanced over to see what the little shits were doing. Back to throwing sand on to the slide.

Then G saw some wet sand and picked it up. He cocked his arm back, ready to throw. “DON’T!”, I said. “We don’t throw sand. It’s not a good thing to do.” He immediately put the sand down and went on playing.

Amazing what a kid will do when someone is there, paying attention to them.

He and I ran around, pretending to be astronauts and Spongebob. Then he found a kid to repeatedly jump off a big rock with.

About an hour after we had gotten there, we were leaving. The little shits were still making a mess of everything.

I feel bad for being angry with them. It’s not their fault. They’re a product of parents who don’t care, or are just plain too lazy to teach their children right from wrong. Honestly, I find that to be sad and pathetic. And I’m annoyed that I have to deal with the little shits they’re creating.

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying kids who have attentive parents can’t turn out to be bad. I’m just saying it would be nice to see them at least get the opportunity to learn how to be good. Without that, it’s almost a sure thing… They’re going to turn out to be… Oh, you know!

07 May 2011

Flawless Saturday Question

12 Comments Flawless Saturday Question

What does Mother’s Day mean to you?

Whether you’re a mother, a daughter, a son, or a husband… You most likely have had a mother, or are related to one. So, you’re most likely celebrating Mother’s Day in some way.

I always have family over for Mother’s Day and I always cook. This year I’m making it easy on myself and ordering in a big Italian feast. This way, I won’t be stressed and I’ll be able to visit with everyone. I’ve been working a lot, so this is my present to myself.

I feel lucky to be a part of this celebration; to celebrate the thing I am most proud of being. I hope to get to sleep in a bit. I hope for breakfast in bed. And I hope for some extra kisses, both from my kid and for my mom.

I hope all of you moms get special time with your families, a chance to reflect and relax, and that someone lets you know how special you are, for caring as much as you do and giving as much as you can.

Happy Mother’s Day

What will you do to celebrate? And what does Mother’s Day mean to you?